


Restore

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Philip tries to burn Jenny away with something else.





	Restore

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Spoilers for season two.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It still smarts. Not even because he _loved_ her really, because he _didn’t_—there were red flags everywhere, and sometimes their tenuous connection felt like more trouble than it was worth. But at least Jenny was a Traveler—if not the right kind—and she seemed to know what she was doing, had so much confidence, even _helped him_, or so he thought. It was fun, just having someone. Looking back, he doesn’t even know how much of that fun was real and how much was whatever chemical she put in her drops. That betrayal almost hurts more than the Faction one—he was so close to getting _clean_.

And he doesn’t know how to fix that. He’s the only one on the team who doesn’t have anyone to go home to. He knows most of them aren’t getting laid, but they _could_ if they really wanted to. And Philip doesn’t have anyone to scratch that itch. Worse, he’s had it scratched now and knows what that relief is like in the twenty-first century, with clean air to gulp in during and actual privacy between bunks. He liked just getting lost in the simple, animal instinct of skin-on-skin, maybe even more than Jenny herself.

He finds himself in a back alley, because he can’t do it again in the warehouse. The memories are too thick there. The others could pop in there. And there are cameras. He finds a back alley that doesn’t have a single one. It’s not that it’s against the rules. The original Philip Pearson was probably a wreck anyway. But he’s ashamed of himself and doesn’t need the Director to see it. 

He hears the car pulling up and glances over, watching it park against the battered wall of an old building, crusting white but littered with graffiti. It’s late enough that Philip can’t see how dirty the car is, how much it probably belongs in such a grimy setting. He watches the driver’s side door kick open and an older man step out. Older than Philip’s body, anyway.

Ray looks around, spots him, and wanders over. There’s a brief second where Philip wonders what he’s doing with his life. He might even regret his choice. But then Ray gets close enough that Philip can smell his cheap cologne, and something about Ray’s chiseled face, grizzly but familiar, sets him at ease again. Ray’s not a model citizen, but he’s also not a monster willing to slaughter millions. And Philip doesn’t have to worry about his allegiances. He’s just _Ray_, nice and simple, something that’s way too appealing to Philip’s ever-working brain. 

Ray stops within arm’s reach, sweeps his eyes up and down Philip’s body, catching in certain places, then grunts, “You look like shit.” Philip almost winces. He doesn’t know what to say to that. It might ruin his plans if Ray really doesn’t like looking at him, but then, he doesn’t think Ray cares much about looks. Ray adds, “You better not’ve called me for a fix.”

That one’s easy to counter. “I don’t want drugs.”

Ray blinks. “Then what do you want?”

There’s a long pause where Ray just stares at him, and then Philip manages to get out: “I want you to fuck me.”

Another pause. It’s just long enough that Philip starts to think he’s made a huge mistake. Ray’s a liability sometimes, but he’s also an enomrous asset, and he’s the _only_ person Philip has outside of his team. He even wonders if he phrased it badly. When he first thought this scenario out, he was going to ask to _make love_, but then figured Ray would just laugh at him.

Ray does that anyway. His face slowly cracks, and then he’s chuckling. When that dies out, he squints. “You’re serious?” Philip doesn’t answer. “What, your boyfriend broke up with you?”

Philip corrects, “Girlfriend.” 

Ray doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “And what, you think random sex is gonna make it feel better?”

Philip both does and doesn’t but is desperate enough to try. But Ray’s tone gets his back up, and he defensively shoots, “Why do you care?”

Ray frowns. “Believe it or not, kid, I _do_ care.” Philip’s brows knit together. Ray admits, “Well, to an extent, anyway.” Which is still more than Philip expected. He knows Ray’s helped him out, even when it didn’t result in extra money. Ray helped get him clean. Ray even bought him Poppy. Somehow, he still figured Ray didn’t care about him any more than anyone else, which is not at all. 

When Philip doesn’t do any more than stare at him, Ray continues, “Hey, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I’m not a walking dildo here.”

Philip can feel his cheeks heating. He mutters, “Forget it. This was a mistake.” And he turns to go. But Ray grabs his wrist and jerks him back. Philip’s eyes shoot down to the grip on his sleeve. Letting go of him, Ray nods down the alley.

“Come on.”

There’s nothing down the alley. It lets out onto a low-rent street that’s half boarded up this late in the evening. He asks anyway, “Where?”

“My car. Let’s go get some food.”

Philip lifts a brow. “You’re gonna buy me dinner?”

Ray snorts. “No, you can buy your own damn dinner. But we can chat over it. Maybe fondle each other under the table. A hand job or two in the washroom, see where it goes.” Ray shrugs. “If you still wanna come back to my place and get ploughed after, okay. Better than a random fuck in an alley.” Maybe at Philip’s skeptical look, he adds, “What, you think I just carry condoms and lube everywhere I go? I care about you enough not to raw you, at least.”

Philip’s definitely blushing. But he’s also weirdly relieved. Dinner sounds like more effort than he wanted to invest, but it’s also got a better return. And maybe he does just want to talk for a bit anyway.

He nods and follows Ray to the car, somewhat calmed when Ray claps his back and tells him, “That’s the spirit. You’re gonna be just fine.”


End file.
